


The skittishness of time

by gbernadon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Knight!Derek, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 21:00:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gbernadon/pseuds/gbernadon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The room Stiles wakes up in is definitely not the room he went to bed in. Actually he doubts that he is still in Beacon Hills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The skittishness of time

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to write something once again. This idea is loosely inspired by Kerstin Gier's Ruby Red. It does not have anything to do with the story, it's just what I expected the Story to be before I read the book.
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated, but please be nice :D

Stiles has always been a cheerful kid. He loved playing outside; especially chasing the neighbour’s cat Zeus, which was big, fat and furry but fast as hell. He always came home with new scratches all over his body. Never did he allow his mother to put some ointment on. They were his war scars and war scars are not meant to be hidden, they have to be shown proudly. That is what he always did, and it is what he is doing now, although this time, his wounds are not scarring, because they will probably never heal at all.

* * *

A loud crash echoes through the halls, startling a very asleep Stiles Stilinski awake. It was so loud, it might have even happened right next to him. Though that would be weird, his bed is soft and cosy and any object possessing the slight possibility of being destroyed by his body movements whilst asleep have been situated at the other end of his room after he had accidentally hit the lamp his grandmother gave to him ages ago. Apparently it had been family heirloom, now it was a case for the Beacon Hills garbage dump. Thus, he concludes, that it must have happened farther away after all and that it is none of his concern. He may be curious by nature, but sleep comes first. Especially when they involve Lydia Martin; or to be more specific: naked Lydia Martin. So Stiles hugs his pillow and tries to find a comfortable position on his soft mattress. However, his mattress is not soft like usual, it is actually kind of hard. Very hard, and cold and pointy.

 

It felt like he is lying in a bed made out of old armour, which happens to be exactly what he is lying in. Unbelievingly he opens his eyes. The room he is lying in is definitely not his room. It’s dark and the walls are made out of stone. A ray of light shines in through a small window, which actually is nothing more than a hole, slightly illuminating the chamber. Confused Stiles tries to get up but the mail is slippery so he drops down on his ass again, the metal clattering. So he remains seated trying to think about what got him into this mess. At first it might have been a prank by Scott or Jackson, but there are no such medieval dungeon like buildings in Beacon Hills. If his body weren’t aching all over, he would have thought it is all just a bad dream.

 

The sound of footsteps tears Stiles out of his thoughts and for the first time he notices the wooden door. It must have been locked anyway because he can hear the plank which is keeping the door from opening on its own, scraping on the door. Seconds later he is staring at the most handsome face he has ever seen. The strong jaw is covered in dark scruff. The attentive eyes are not entirely green, but nevertheless beautiful. The face belonged to an even more gorgeous body. The guy it belongs to is about the same height as Stiles, maybe a bit taller but that could be the hair. The toned arms are visible under the too tight sleeves of the shirt and so are the abs. His pants seem to be a bit too small too, if the bulge in the pants is anything to go by. Stiles is unable to avert his eyes, which he probably should because staring blatantly at another dude’s crotch is hardly ever acceptable, especially if the cock in question belongs to a person who looks like he could rip out Stiles throat. Possibly with his teeth even. Well he might actually enjoy having these lips touching his neck… No. Lydia is the only one for him. Not older, insanely attractive men who seem to live in an old castle and also has no fashion sense.

 

His shameless ogling is finally interrupted as the man grabs him with his strong arms and presses him against the wall. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” he inquires with a sharp tone in his voice as he tightens the grip he has on Stiles. “Ehrm Dude” he starts, “Would you mind letting go of me here? Where is this place anyway? Sure does not look like Beacon Hills. The name is Stiles by the way. My mom always said not to talk to strangers but it doesn’t seem like you would release me without answering and I’m already in some creepy dark dungeon anyway so what’s the point. I’m pretty sure it can’t end much worse. Unless you kill me, which I won’t appreciate. At all.” The man seems to be a tad confused at Stiles sudden outburst of words. He does let go of him though, but only to take him roughly by the wrist and dragging him out of the room.

 

They have been walking for quite some time now. At first, Stiles didn’t stop asking questions. That’s just who he is. He hadn’t received any answers, except for once, the name of his mysterious savior?/kidnapper? who seemed to be called Derek. Then however, he decided to focus on his surroundings. His guess of being in a dungeon was not that far off, because he is in a castle that looks rather similar to the ones he has seen in his European history books. Luckily they have not encountered any people, although there are some in the courtyard selling food and riding horses. He’s pretty sure he has seen some nights in actual armour.

 

Finally Derek stops, Stiles nearly crashing into him because he is too distracted by everything else. Especially Derek’s butt in those tight pants he is wearing. They have entered a beautiful bedroom. It is unusually bright considering the lack of windows, and there are various tapestries on the walls. The biggest is hanging above the wide and, for medieval standards, comfy looking bed. On the tapestry is a coat of arms, consisting of a purple flower and a wolf. “That’s your room.” Derek states as he leaves the room, locking the door behind him.

* * *

It’s been nearly two weeks since Stiles has somehow managed to transport himself from 2013 Beacon Hills to 14th century England and he must admit, it is not that bad. He misses his dad and Scott though. Surprisingly he has spent little time thinking about Lydia, the fantasies about her have been replaced by rather vivid ones involving Derek, who is in fact, not that bad. He feeds him, brings him clean clothes and even books, after he had found out that Stiles could read. At first Derek didn’t believe him when he said that he was from the future. It took some time to convince Derek, but Stiles is sure that he seems just as strange to Derek as Derek does to him. His new friend still does not talk much. He considers Derek a friend; after all he could have just brought Stiles to the king who would probably convict him as a sorcerer or something. Although they are not many, Stiles knows a few things about Derek now. Derek is a knight, he used to have a sister but she got married and moved away; the room Stiles is staying at used to be hers, he does not like pears but loves apples and he had the most magnificent back any man could have.

 

There is one thing that really bugs him though. He is not allowed to leave the room. Which makes sense in a way, Stiles doesn’t know how to behave in medieval England, but nevertheless it makes him restless and not taking his Adderall for such a long time is not helping either. So he spends the most of his time alone, reading stuff that is nearly impossible to understand. The English language used to be so different and Stiles Latin is not the best. He has only learnt it to impress Lydia because he found out that she knows archaic Latin when they talked about ancient Rome. His search for a way home has not been successful so far. Time travel is apparently not so common in the 14th century. Well it also is not in 2013. Maybe there are no records of going back because there is no way. Or maybe he is just a freak, an abnormity of nature.

 

Sighing he settles down next to the window. It’s shortly after midday and the sun is still high up in the sky. At this time of the day Derek is training with his squire, Isaac, down in the yard. They are sparring with swords today. Stiles cannot stop watching Derek, who is stretching his back right now to hit Isaac with his wooden sword. It connects with the boy’s upper body and he trips. The hit must not have been hard however, as Isaac is already standing back up again. They spar until the squire is so exhausted that he can barely hold his sword up anymore.

 

Minutes later Derek enters Stiles room to bring him lunch. Although Stiles’ stomach has been rumbling for quite some time now, he barely registers the bean soup that Derek has put on the table. All he can see is the sweat trailing down Derek’s temples and the wet spots on the man’s clothes that cling to his body. Gaping he takes his spoon to shovel the food into his mouth to not embarrass himself further. The strong attraction that Stiles feels towards Derek has to stop someday. Today is not that day however, and so he keeps watching the man eat out of the corner of his eye.

 

They always eat together; in silence, of course. Sometimes, like today, Derek stays behind a bit to listen to Stiles babbling. Watching Stiles talk seems to be very entertaining for Derek, as his lips tend to curl up and his teeth show a bit, making it the smallest smile Stiles has ever seen, but it is a smile and that is all that matters. Occasionally, especially when Stiles talks about his home, Derek gently takes his hand and strokes the back of Stiles hand with his thumb. Actions like this make Stiles think that maybe his infatuation with Derek might not end as fruitless as he has expected it to be at first.

 

They have been sitting with their hands intertwined; looking at each other and Stiles does not know what to do with that. It somehow makes him nervous, makes him want to move, although normally Derek’s presence calms him down. Suddenly the knight raises his other arm, his fingertips hushing over Stiles face. Unaware of what he is doing, Stiles leans into the touch. This occurs to have been too much for Derek because he jumps up and bolts out of the room, carrying the dirty dishes in his hands. Taken aback by the reaction Stiles stares into the empty space where the other man has just been.

 

One month has passed since Stiles has woken up in medieval England. He has spent most of the time thinking about Derek. Ever since then, the air has been kind of awkward between them. It has been bothering Stiles but so far he has not said anything. Assuming that the knight is attracted to him, it must be hard for him to admit it. He is living in the 14th century after all, a time where you would probably get burned on a stake for laying with another man. Derek has also been visiting him less often. Driven by boredom Stiles has finally decided to explore the castle a bit. At the beginning he has just snooped around on the floor he lives, but soon he has seen all of the castle’s nooks and crannies, except for the secret passages, because they are called secret passages for a reason. Right now he is in the stables, petting Derek’s wonderful black Stallion Camaro which is probably the most handsome horse he has ever set his eyes upon.

 

So far, all of his ventures outside have gone unseen; this is bound to change now, as he hears a woman and a man who are arguing about something approach the stable. Quickly he moves away from the horse to hide in the fresh hay stored at the back. He may have to hide but he is not desperate enough to do so in the hay covered in manure. “Derek! You cannot run away from me all the time. After all I am-“ the woman cries. “Katherine. Stop please. After everything that has happened you can’t just expect me to come back to you. That’s impossible and you know that!” Derek retorts. This is the most shaken Stiles has ever seen the knight. “Oh, my dear it may be many things, however it is not impossible. I AM your betrothed after all!” Katherine says with an exaggerated sweet voice.

 

For a moment, Stiles was in shock. Betrothed. Of course Derek had a fiancée. He is a rich, handsome and strong knight, who would not want to marry him? Because Stiles definitely would do that in a heartbeat. And that is exactly where the problem lies. Apparently Stiles feelings for Derek have grown for the man quite a bit without him noticing. He has fallen for Derek and he is wondering how that could have happened. Was it because Derek would always listen attentively to his stories? Or the gentle touches and tiny smiles? Stiles does not know and also does not care because Derek has a betrothed, so what is the point? It would be better if he could just forget them altogether. But the more he tries to forget, the more he remembers and with dried tears on his cheeks the exhaustion makes him fall asleep.

 

In the bright light of the moon Stiles stalks back to his room. He has not slept well, dreams about Katherine and Derek looking lovingly into each other’s eyes haunting him. Slowly he opens the door to his room, hoping that he will sleep better in an actual bed. However as soon as the door is open enough to sleep through, he is being enveloped by two strong arms. “Stiles!” he hears Derek say, his voice cracking, “Where were you? I was so worried that she might have gotten to you…” – “She? You mean Katherine?” Stiles spits out as he is trying to escape from the tight hold. “You…know?” Derek sputtered, disbelief in his eyes. “Yes Derek, I do. And you know what? It just fucking hurts so much, because even if I’ve been reading into things too much and that I definitely have done, I just can’t stop thinking that we had something special going on, no matter how little it actually was! I’m so damn angry at myself too. Why do I always fall in love with the wrong people anyway? What have I ever done to the world I’d like to know that very much, please!“ Stiles yells, choking on his tears.

 

Derek does not reply to that, he just holds Stiles closer and gently strokes the teen’s back. Although Stiles does not want to he leans into Derek and just continues sobbing until he cannot cry anymore. The soothing touches have calmed him down, but at the same time he is furious at Derek. How does he even dare to do that to him, now that he has told him how he feels. He wipes the tears away with his sleeve and tries to finally have Derek let go of him. His second attempt fails too though. If anything, it makes the knight hold onto him tighter. After a while, Stiles admits that struggling is futile and just gives up. That is when Derek kisses him chastely on the lips.

 

“I’ve known Kate for all of my life. She is the daughter of a big family of hunters, the Argents. There has always been war between our families because most of the lands belong to the Hales and they have committed numerous cases of poaching. Our fathers have tried to form a truce and to make it binding they have promised that I should marry Kate once I finish being Lord Deaton’s squire. However, when I was 16 someone burnt down my home, my sister Laura and I were the only ones who survived. I’ve always suspected the Argents to have something to do with it; after all it would be easier to kill me off when I’m still grieving about my family’s murder. “ Derek explains as they are cuddling on top of Stiles’ bed. “And when you were gone from your room I thought that she would have somehow found out about your existence, I was stupid enough for telling her about the prophecy in the first place-“ – “What prophecy?” Stiles inquires, now even more curious than before.

 

“In the summer of my tenth year a fair took place on the market grounds and with the merchants a seer came into town. She told everybody that for a piece of copper she would tell us about our true love. I’d gotten some money to buy myself some candy at the stalls, but instead I went to the seer. In her tent she looked deeply into my eyes and held my hands. In a solemn voice she told me: ‘Young one, your life will be full of hardship, but love you will find, though not in the woman you are bound to marry. One day, you will cross paths with a boy who is not meant to be. He will be different than everybody you have ever known, but he will be yours.’ For years I kept on wondering who she meant, until I met you, because I loved you the first time I set my eyes on you.” – “I love you too, you know,” Stiles replied sleepily, overwhelmed by the emotions. “I know, I’ve heard you say it the first time,” Derek chuckles.

 

They wake up due to the sun shining into their faces. Unwilling to open his eyes, Stiles snuggles deeper into Derek’s chest. “I need to get up. Isaac needs his training,” the knight grumbles. “No you don’t” Stiles retorts, “That boy needs a break from all the satanic training you are putting him through every day. Today you will stay here and cuddle with me all day.” He sneaks a kiss on Derek scruffy chin who grabs the teen in return and drags him onto his chest. “Now that’s a position I could get used to,” Stiles teases, “Does that mean I’m your significant other? Your one and only? Fated to be together forever?” Derek laughs at that. “Forever? Only if you want us to.” - “Yes. I do.” 

* * *

 

With a thump Stiles lands next to his bed. Alerted he looks around, confused to find out that he is back home in his room in Beacon Hills. He can feel the panic growing; his breathing is increasing and his chest is hurting. he curls up in a ball on his blanket. That’s where his father finds him. At first, the Sheriff says nothing. He just holds his crying son, wondering what has happened. “What is wrong, son?” he presses gently. “I don’t know, dad. I really don’t.” Stiles sobs, “One day I’m here. Then not… and Derek… and now I’m alone again and I just… I just don’t know anymore. What if it all had been just a dream? I don’t want it to-“ – “Stiles! Calm down!” his father pleads, “Whatever it was, it was not a dream Stiles. Look at yourself.” Tentatively he stands up, not completely trusting his feet yet. When he casts a look into the mirror, he can feel the tears welling up once again. His hair is longer, he is still wearing the clothes Derek gave him, can still see the stains from hiding in the hay. “Stiles, time can be a cruel thing. Sometimes it does things that are not supposed to happen and in the end, people get hurt.” the Sheriff knowingly states. “Will I ever be able to go back? Stiles begs. “I wish I knew the answer, son.”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Which is sad but it's the truth


End file.
